Serial Cheater
by 5wedishchef
Summary: Human!DenNor with DenSpa When you find that special person, the one who you think you'll spend the rest of your life with... You'd do anything for them-anything to keep the love there. They say love can be addicting, and if that saying is true, Sigve was a full on junkie. Drugs and love make you do crazy things. Pt.1/2, ratings will go up in pt2


[Human!AU  
DenNor and DenSpa  
Warning: Cheating  
Word Count:  
Rating: PG (Language)]

 _I'm not sure you want to do this, Sig. Like look you don't deserve to do this to yourself…_

Sigve's phone lit up, drawing his attention away from the uncharacteristically silent movie night he and Mikkel were having. His brows knit slightly as he skimmed the text from his coworker, his stomach flipped a moment later when his phone buzzed again.

 _Don't just leave me on read lmao_

He gave a soft snort then glanced over at Mikkel, who was watching _The Lobster_ with rather intense concentration. Sigve found himself gazing fondly at the Dane, a fondness that was almost painful. He uncrossed his legs which were propped against the coffee table and shifted them into his boyfriend's lap. Momentarily confused, Mikkel gave him a sideways glance then set about massaging Sigve's foot through the thick wool socks he was wearing. Sucking in a deep breath, Sigve reveled in the normalcy of the moment before unlocking his phone and typing out his response.

 _If I didn't think this was necessary I wouldn't have texted you. Give me his number.  
_ A few minutes passed and Sigve let the movie take him away again. The way the people in the movie spoke was somewhat disconcerting upon first tuning in—constantly texting was definitely taking away from the atmosphere the filmmakers worked so hard to create, but this conversation felt so much more important. He became aware that Mikkel was looking at him after a few moments, his nerves were getting the better of him and he'd been shaking his foot in his boyfriend's grip.

"Want me to stop?" Mikkel asked, his fingers digging into his tendon.  
"Mh-mhm…" Sigve gave him a soft smile.  
"You're breaking your own rule, texting away on that thing," he tossed his head towards his phone, "You doin' alright, Sig? Something with work?"

Well, the king of excuses picked out an excuse for him, so Sigve didn't struggle to fabricate a story about how his buddies at work were trying to plan some office get together for later that month. It didn't take much to make it work—Mikkel didn't seem too interested to begin with. This had been a common theme. He'd try to talk about developments in his work relationships or just office drama but Mikkel refused to take the time to learn the names of the people he was talking about and he constantly forgot the details of the prior story so there was no point. His lack of curiosity stung. It seemed that he'd just lost interest with him as a whole…

He was dragged from his self-pitying thoughts as his phone lit up again, this time with an attached contact. _Toni Carriedo_ with the number attached. He flipped to his notes to compare the contact to the unsaved number that he'd pulled off of Mikkel's phone. They were exactly the same. Sigve's mouth went dry and his hands suddenly felt restless. He closed his phone and sat with his hands in his lap for a moment before staring at the TV, trying to find it in himself to get interested in the movie again.

He wanted his feet out of Mikkel's lap. He wanted to be anywhere else but on the couch with him, and the thought that he'd be sharing a bed with him tonight was just… It was too much. After forcing himself to sit still for a solid minute, he pulled his feet back to himself and tucked them tightly under him. His face was completely still, but he felt like something was shredding his insides. Sigve wasn't typically a crier, and this little bump in the road wasn't going to change that about him. But… God, did this hurt. He needed space.

And with that he picked himself up and gave his boyfriend a tired smile and told him he was going to go shower then lay down; he was feeling sick.

As he stood under the hot water of the shower he let his head fall limply. Staring at his feet, Sigve tried to understand. What had changed between the two of them? Had he done something wrong or was this just something inside of Mikkel? He couldn't parse it apart.

About a month ago, something in their 3-year relationship had changed. Mikkel switched his password on his phone and wouldn't let Sigve in, which inherently hadn't seemed like the worst thing in the world. Mikkel offered up some excuse that he'd read about the dangers of having someone know your codes on that snapchat, Mashable daily reading thing. Sigve had brushed it off. Then, Mikkel began to keep a closer hold on his phone.

Once, Sigve found it on the counter and went to put on some music—only to remember that he didn't know the code anymore. Just as he was setting it down, his startled boyfriend was there. Charming as ever, Mikkel spun up something about needing to make a phone call to someone, somewhere for work. Sigve had thought nothing of it at the time and willingly handed him his phone back.

Then, their time together seemed to evaporate. Fewer dates, less time alone together, and far more alone time for Sigve. Mikkel always seemed to be out. He was working, going drinking with his friends, working late, getting more drinks, late night gym trips, he joined a cycling group… Nothing unusual for Mikkel, really. But it was just the combination of everything.

Sigve didn't snoop. He prided himself on this. As a partner, he felt that snooping and constant checking of your partner's phone showed signs of an unhealthy relationship. After 3 weeks of minimal contact and a wild swing from over affection to almost none, Sigve found himself feeling in need of reassurance. So, he watched Mikkel unlock his phone one day and memorized the passcode.

And if this story was a good one, Sigve would have forgotten about the code and had a direct conversation with Mikkel and addressed his issues. But that's not what happened at all. Instead he found texts between Mikkel and some random number that spanned the past two months. At first, they started out platonic enough but the most recent ones were… Explicit to say the least. And there were photos. So many back and forths between the two men.

Sigve hadn't noticed when he had started crying, but his nostrils were pouring mucous and the steam wasn't making breathing any easier. He could hardly feel where his tears ended and the water ended and he liked it that way. He shifted to lean against the wall and cried. He had stuffed his feelings down far enough that he had been able to ignore them but now they were all rushing to the surface. Every sign that Mikkel was acting different came back to him and the confusion and sadness that he'd forced himself to not feel were fresh as day. He was gasping at this point. The hot water was calming usually, but the steam was making it hard for him to breathe. Gasping and snotty, Sigve's sobs ripped out of him silently, wracking his entire frame.

The stupid man had him turned in knots. He loved him—it had been three years and Sigve was the happiest he'd ever been. Never in his life had he found someone who could make him smile quite like Mikkel. They'd known each other since they were children but it wasn't until they were both out of college and in the working world that they realized they were in the same city. They met for coffee and the rest was history. It was the dream. It was perfect. It was wonderful…. In the beginning it was all Sigve could do to keep Mikkel. The world had so much to offer and while Sigve knew he wasn't plain by any means, there was just so much out there. And keeping Mikkel tethered was like trying to tame a falcon: hard, but possible.

The introduction of this Toni person had, seemingly thrown the balance. And Sigve couldn't really blame Mikkel. He'd seen the photos. The man was gorgeous. Fit, trim, tall, tanned, handsome—with a smile much like Mikkel's own. They could have met anywhere… The gym, a bar, work… Well, Sigve had suspicions it was through the bar Mikkel made a habit of going to. His coworker, Matthew, tended to drop by there with his sister every now and again and when Sigve gave the description of the man—Toni—Matthew knew who he was talking about immediately.

He was making himself feel sick again. He needed to figure out what he was going to do.

Confrontations always went smoother in public, right? That's what Sigve tried to tell himself as his anxiety spiked. It was about ten minutes into waiting that he wished he'd kept his prescription for Xanax or that it was past 3PM so he wouldn't feel quite so terrible being in public drunk. Not that drunk, mind you. Buzzed. Something to take the edge off so he wouldn't feel quite so… terrible. 

Every brunette to enter the café made his heartrate jump up about a hundred beats per minute. By the time the proper brunette walked into the café Sigve's poor heart was about to give out. But the second he finally saw Toni he wished he could go back to waiting for the guy to show up. He'd texted him off Mikkel's phone and asked him to meet him here and up until now he'd never seen the man in person. He could understand why Mikkel was fucking him, he gave off this electric energy and his features were stunning.

That being said, seeing his full figure only dredged up mental images of him and Mikkel fucking or whatever it was that they did. That was what sealed the deal. Sigve's hands and feet felt cold as he stood. He clutched his cup of coffee in shaking hands and headed towards the table Toni had seated himself at as he tapped away on his phone. Sigve loomed beside him; Toni didn't look up.

"Ah, give me a second I'm waiting for someone-," He glanced up to see Sigve and gave him a confused smile when he realized he wasn't staff. "Oh, uh, sorry can I help you?"  
God dammit, even the way he speaks is beautiful. Sigve couldn't help but compare Toni's soft rolling of his r's and tutting of his t's to his own harsh r sounds and his morphing of t's to d's.

"Are you Toni Carriedo?" He felt totally numb, his brain was on auto-pilot.  
"Yes, I am. Antonio, but same difference. I'm sorry, do I know you?" Though he still looked confused he flashed a brilliant smile. Sigve sank into the chair across from him, earning an even more confused look. "I'm sorry, I have someone who's coming…" He began.

Sigve shook his head until Antonio fell silent, he was beginning to look antsy. Sigve stilled himself with a sip of coffee.

"Mikkie isn't coming." He used the pet name with little affection and the word felt like glass in his mouth. "I don't need to hear anything from you I just… I need you to listen to me."

"…Alright," Antonio looked downright concerned at this point.

Sigve sucked in a deep breath and set the coffee down on the table, his eyes trained on the stains near the rim of the cup. As he sighed it out, he felt like he was going to completely deflate. The chipper demeanor he'd been trying to sell fell away with that sigh and it lay in a heap on the ground at his feet. What was left, whatever little emotion he'd been able to knit together was all that was left.

"I don't know," he began, delicately licking his lips, "what it is you have with Mikkel Jensen. I don't—I can't know. But Antonio, this man has been the light of my life since I was a child. I… I am not a happy person. But he makes me happy.  
You are, I mean… You know. You wake up and see how you look. You know that you've got me beat in looks. You're fit, you're tall, you're… You're perfect. You could have any person man you ever wanted and all you'd have to do is pass them a wayward glance and… And they'd fall into your fucking lap."

Sigve's voice was low but his gaze was steady as he looked at Antonio. After a moment he let his eyes drop.

"I can easily understand how you could… You could take him. You could have anyone, Antonio." He coughed and cleared his throat before continuing on. "I don't want to sound too melodramatic but, Mikkel is the love of my life. And I do not think—" his voice cracked and he quickly adverted his gaze to the lid of his coffee as he paused.  
"I—I'm—," Antonio began, stumbling with words with a pain in his eyes.  
"Please. Just let me finish."

They sat in silence for a moment. The bustle of the café continued on around them, but the two men seated by the window seemed frozen against the chaos.

"I'm begging you, please don't take him just because you know you can. If what you have is… If it's something more than simple lust—I don't… I can't condone it. I'm having this talk with you Antonio, because… Because my happiness hinges on whatever you decide to do. Please. Don't take him, even though you can."

With that, Sigve stood up abruptly. He sniffled softly and shoved his free hand into his pocket, his lukewarm coffee in the other hand.

"Hope I didn't interrupt your day," he said stiffly before turning to go.

"I didn't know," Antonio caught his elbow and Sigve visibly recoiled. Whether it was the touch or the words was unclear.

"Next time you should _ask_ ," he spoke softly but the words came out with venom.

And with that, Sigve made his way out of the café and onto the street. He stood on the sidewalk for a moment, taking in a moment to enjoy the warm breeze that danced between the buildings. Nothing had changed about his physical appearance but he felt so… exposed. When he let go of that thick skin to Antonio he peeled completely out of it and that protection was lying in that café while Sigve was walking back to his small apartment in the outskirts of the city. He couldn't hold back the tears that welled in his eyes, but they felt somewhat refreshing this time around. There was no running from it anymore.

A week passed and Mikkel was in a blue mood that fluctuated between depressed and angry. But there was no mention of his intervention. His moods swung far from raging—slamming cabinets and stomping through the house—to dismal—not leaving bed for hours, not speaking or returning texts—within mere hours. To anyone who didn't know him better, it would seem like a bad week. But Sigve knew him well—it was how Mikkel dealt with rejection.

And as that mood passed, Sigve felt some semblance of hope start to come back into his chest. It hurt like hell to hope again but it was better than the alternative.


End file.
